


GALOOMPS

by spicyshimmy



Series: Dragon Wars [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshimmy/pseuds/spicyshimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a series of vignettes for a Dragon Age/Star Wars AU, written for Kassafrassa on tumblr, with whom the concept was developed. Anders and Hawke are stationed together on Naboo, and Anders watches Hawke practice. <i>From padawan to wanderer, and nothing in between. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	GALOOMPS

Anders eats, hungry at last, with Naboo’s humid winds sultry but promising against his skin. When he closes his eyes, he doesn’t feel as though the sand’s crawling up his nose or down the back of his throat, and that’s promise enough for any traveler.

From padawan to wanderer, and nothing in between.

When Anders opens his eyes, he can see Hawke through the dappled foliage, practicing for balance one-handed and without strain. He’s all upside-down and back-to-front, better at the exercise than he used to be, the muscles of his shoulders shifting with the same shadows as leaves hit by a lakeside breeze.

Anders folds his arms over the railing of the veranda before him, leaning too hard on his elbow, hard enough to bruise on the sensitive bone.

He rubs it with his palm after, brushing juice from the corner of his mouth instead of crusty little grains of sand. The difference is—of course—palpable, something sweet on the tip of his thumb, then the tip of his tongue.

Whoever decided it would be a good idea to come to Naboo from Tatooine was clever. _Hawke_ is clever, with the same wicked humor of a youngling tempered by time and sand, and balancing with the same acknowledgment and respect for weight as an old master. It isn’t what they’re lifting that matters but that they’re able to lift it, and Hawke is no exception to the time-honored tradition.

Anders reaches for the braid that isn’t there, fussing with hair that falls loose from its ties in that braid’s place. Sweet juices, warm breezes and fresh air—and all of Naboo’s natural flora blossoming, little creatures _jub-jubbing_ and cooing at him, curious at each new interruption, clustered around his ankles and in the shade of the garden.

‘I’ve always wanted to see a galoomp,’ he tells Hawke later as Hawke comes up the path, shrugging into the sleeves of his robes. There’s sweat on the back of his neck and on his brow, dark hair curling damp against his forehead.

‘Then let’s go find one,’ Hawke replies.


End file.
